Madelyne wasn’t sure what to make of this situation. Especially not now that she was receiving the endless calm of one Victor Creed. He was not concerned, there was not the urge to flee on his mind and Madelyne let herself be appeased by it. To be appeased by one Victor Creed – there were still signs and wonders, it appeared.

Years back their first encounters had been full of animosity and trickery and belligerence. He had stirred curiosity in her to say the least – and thus Madelyne had put herself in his way at every chance. It had taken a long time for the large and strong mutant to accept that Madelyne was a force to be reckoned with. She lacked the stamina, strength and endurance he had. She was little more than half his size. But her psychic powers existed in a world of their own. She could hold her own – even against one Beth Silvercloud, however bloody a fight that would turn out to be.

She had found out … there was a lot more to Victor Creed that met the eye, and this discovery seemed to have been mutual. So these days, she counted him as one of her closest allies. More than once, Victor had saved her life. Hell, he had done everything in his power to stop her being swept up by the SFG. And even now, that Kitty and her son had gotten her away from the agency, Madelyne knew that Victor was probably the only person in this room that would not hold her choices against her.

Part of the reason her body was in lockdown was Madelyne having installed the failsafe herself. She did not appreciate it at all when Psylocke was rummaging around in her mind. There were way too many personal things to uncover.

You should just get some damned whiskey. Your mind’s a brighter place when you drunk. She said as he joined her in his mindspace. She chose not to comment on him finding it funny that she would become hairy like him. Madelyne doubted he would mind.

I know, I know. She waved him off and shrugged. Working her shoulders, she focused, lifting the lockdown just enough for her body to properly accept the outside help being provided in the form of Victor’s blood. We’d exchanged a lot of things over time. Never thought it’d be blood one day. She exhaled, feeling the effect of his blood in the most peculiar ways. It’s like you crawling around inside of me now … She worked her shoulders as if trying to get used to the sensation.

Victor was inquiring about her wish to leave. Madelyne tipped her head to the side, she enjoyed the sound of Victor’s voice. The deep rumble was calming her. His presence was. If he was in the room, at least one man stood between her and the crazy women such as Kitty or Caitlin who’d surely rip her throat out and god knew how much else for the information she held.

Look around you … they’re fuckin’ mad. All of them. She heaved a sigh, knowing she was stuck in the place no matter whether she liked it or not. Popping one eye open, she looked at Victor. Whiskey, she repeated. If I am to have it, you need to have it. After all, she in no state to ingest it. Madelyne got up from her chair, and without the need for an invitation just climbed onto Victor’s lap. Her small form curled up against his larger and very warm frame. She always appreciated the way he seemed to radiate heat. She pushed her face into the crook of his neck, mumbling against the stubble of his facial growth. I swear, if I die on a fuckin’ kitchen table, I’ll just stay camped out here and haunt you for the rest of your life, Victor. And we both know that’s going to be a very long time.

I can’t get up, Princess, kinda stuck to you. If I knew I would have been sitting here for a while I would have brought a bottle. And he would have but bottles of whiskey were scarce around here and Red wasn’t willing to just pick up more for his sake.

He didn’t want to think about it but he had accepted that he couldn’t walk around with a bottle in his hand, day in and out. Those little rugrats looked up at him for some reason and Caitlin had told him he should behave as such and that meant no drinking in front of the kids. He had obliged and somehow the little tikes had shown up at every god damn minute whenever he had craved a drink.

For some reason he felt when Maddy slightly lifted the lockdown, the power in his blood purring contently to finally getting things done. He couldn’t help but snort, thinking that she hadn’t truly felt him inside her and that he wasn’t opposed into showing her how that would feel.

Of course they’re fucking mad. They let me stick around. He rumbled and if she kept on talking about whiskey, he needed to tag the kid in the room to get him a bottle. He started to crave the golden liquid. Madelyne crawled into his lap and he let her, content with just the feeling of her body curling up against him. His arm came around her, and apparently he had asked for a bottle of whiskey in the real world because the image of one appeared in his free hand. Here’s your whiskey. He told her as she pushed her face into the crook of his neck.

What’s one more voice in here? He laughed. I wouldn’t mind the company. And he took a swig from the bottle that he had clutched in his hand. But instead of dying, Princess, perhaps you can just stay alive and we can check some more things off from that list of exchanges.

__________________

Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end,
if not always in the way we expect.

Stuck to me, Madelyne chuckled. Cannot say I mind, big guy. She sighed and settled further into her position. Victor smelled like leather, forest and just a little of very masculine sweat. Real skin. To her it was the smell of real skin, a real man. It was a very familiar scent. And if they’re mad as hatters for letting you stick around, what does that make me? She chuckled at this.

This was when he pushed the whiskey at her. She sat up a little on Victor’s lap. You’re drinking it, she asked, and apparently he did because in her other hand a glass appeared. Madelyne smiled, licked her lips, shot Victor a glance at which he barked out a bout of laughter. Then she downed the contents of the glass in one go. Oh shit. That’s cheap stuff… but better than nothing. She shrugged and topped up her glass, eventually handing the bottle back to him.

When he commented on her dying, she grinned at him. Well. If I stay here, we can certainly check a good old-fashioned mind fuck off of that list. She threw her head back and laughed. Sometimes she really did amuse herself. Madelyne took another large gulp of the whiskey. She knew she should not, and every paramedic would tell Victor off, but the healing factor in his blood would not be inhibited by the alcohol.

I think my head is improving. You might just not get rid of me yet. She sat on his left thigh, her slender legs pulled up and folded across his right leg, knees resting against his right side. I’m just not sure what will happen once I’m out of crisis. If they throw me into a cell you better do something … Madelyne looked very unnerved about the idea. She had gotten locked up by the SFG for long enough, bought her damned way out of that cell by offering to play the mutant side. How this situation here now played out would decide where she would stand from here on out. She really did not give half a damn about any of the people in this place. The only one was the man who let her share his mindspace as if it was the most normal thing to do.

The work his blood was doing in her body was like tingertips running along across her skin and underneath it. She exhaled, letting her shoulders drop. There was a small smile on her lips. She took another swig, then let her eyes open half way, looking at him through lidded eyes. Her free hand found the strong line of his jaw and she let her fingers graze the growth of hair. We could cross the mind fuck off of the list now and decide afterwards whether I head back out there at all. Her smile widened at this. Victor and her always came up with all kinds of crazy ideas.

It’s not from my secret stash. I’ll show you, if you wake up. We can have a proper drink. He told her in response to the cheap stuff they were now drinking. Kid probably just grabbed the first bottle he could find in Victor’s room and he only left the cheap swill out, just to make sure nobody snagged the good stuff he kept hidden.

Victor rumbled out a laugh. You’re being rather feisty for someone who lost enough bodily fluids. Not that he was opposed to doing what she suggested. She usually came up with the most interesting things to do anyway. He took another swig from the bottle and let out a content sigh. This wasn’t so bad after all. He let his fingertips caress Madelyne’s back as she told him that her head was improving. Well good, I rather like your company.

That should have surprised him because he didn’t do connections but after his niece had set him free, he had started to look differently at the world. And what he had with Madelyne, it was something unexpected.

Nobody is going to touch you but me, Princess. Was his response to her asking him to do something if they dared to throw her into a cell. And when you wake up, I have something very different in mind than throwing you in a cell.

The little psychic did something to him, her caress felt as real as in person and he softly growled at her. She was playing with fire, especially when she opted to cross the mind fuck of the list. Or you could just wake up and cross out the mind in mind fuck and just do the fucking in person. He opted, although he wondered how real it all would feel if they just stayed in his mind and he fucked her senseless in here. Or perhaps both.

__________________

Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end,
if not always in the way we expect.

Seeing him in her head, feeling it, heated her blood, her bones, filled her chest. Plenty of everything enough to fill her eyes, and she blinked back the threat of a downpour. How long had she reached out beyond the confines that held her to shield, she couldn’t number. None of that now. He was safe, no one would find him again unless she wanted them to. Because she no longer had to focus on keeping herself perpetually conscious enough to defend herself, or him.

It was selfish, on some levels, she knew that.

She shook herself, drawing away from the regret that threatened to swallow her, the wondering if everything would have been easier if she had let the humans have what they wanted. No, it wouldn’t have been, she chastised herself, they would have taken her blood, her genetic make-up, grafted her abilities like all the others they had stolen…

His voice brought her back out of herself and she focused on him.

How long had it been?

She took him in as he moved towards her. The same gait, the same shift of his form from one leg to the other, yet it seemed smoother, but there was no hitch of hiccup in the mind where there may have been outside of it. Her gaze settled momentarily on his left hand and she smiled, something gentle, and then traced up along that arm towards his shoulder, up the side of his neck and ear. His hair was peppered heavier with silver and her smile broadened just enough to allow her teeth to peek through. But the splintered edges of his thoughts rippled her perception even as she tried to smooth the fabric out.

He sat beside her, shifting himself enough to be just at her side, one hand reached for her thigh to pull her all the closer, and the other about her shoulders. It was second nature to lean into him. Even with however long it had been, however the distance, she had held him closest to her. Even constructs in her head that she made of him to speak to when she needed the distraction, when she needed quiet, when she wanted to give up and give in.

When he brought her face to his and kissed her just enough, her grip on the space about them shuddered. Even as a presence in her head, it was still him. It was difficult, still, to grasp that fact. That it was actually him in her head, rather than a form of him she had created from her own memories. Her fingertips slid along the line of his jaw. “I’m right here.” She breathed against his ear, her reply to his claim to possibly never seeing her again. But that had been a very real concept that she had accepted a long time ago. Never seeing him again. Never being outside of that place ever again.

Yet in that place, even in her fatigue, she could feel the wealth of emotions that wanted to spring free, no longer tempered by the vacuum created when her abilities coupled.

“I love you.” She told him, because before anything else, she wanted him to know that. “At some point I’m going to fall sleep.” And she wasn’t sure if she would be able to control it, nor did she know if he would be stuck within her head if she did. She was so exhausted, his questioning about it fluttering like a moth trying to escape against her thoughts.

She had a horde of questions she wanted to ask him, but simply sitting there, knowing that he was beside her, both in her head and out, was enough to lull her inquiries for the moment. “How did you get here?”

Forge worked hard to just accept. But how could one? How could one go back to normalcy when for the past years he had done little more than avoid the idea of her death? A part of his mind had insisted that he would never see her again. They had killed her, had eventually just burned her body to leave him with a grave. No kind of closure would be possible. So at some point he had refused to deal. He had made the next bottle of brandy his friend, and he has stopped asking questions.

When her voice scared away those memories, he shivered. Forge didn’t know how to go back to a life in which she existed – and it wasn’t for the lack of trying. He wanted her back. Forge had never stopped. He had dreamed of Beth, had imagined her, had spoken to her when left to his own devices in his workshop. She had been a constant companion – and the ever lurking idea that she would never return to him had broken him. Little by little. Just a tiny bit every day.

To hear her speak, feel her this close – the real world paired with this place. And both of them were realities to him equally. Their relationship had begun with a whole lot of time spent within the one or the other’s mindspace after all. He felt her here, felt her in the real world. To hear her say the words he had dreamed up, had fabricated with uncanny precision.

Then she went on, announcing that she would just fall asleep at some point. This made him smile. “I wish you just would. No more speaking through kids. There is no need to keep yourself awake here.” As he spoke, Forge’s eyes roamed the expanse of her face and he was momentarily overwhelmed by a very single-minded wish. “Can you sleep?” he asked. “Please. I want to look at you out there.” No matter how real this place was for him, he needed to pair his memory of her with the real Beth. Like him, she had aged, too. And while here she looked so very much like she had just stepped out of his bedroom all those ago, he wanted the real her. He wanted new memories. He wanted to see if this new version of her could be with the man he had become.

Yet in that place, even in her fatigue, she could feel the wealth of emotions that wanted to spring free, no longer tempered by the vacuum created when her abilities coupled.

When she spoke next, Beth asked about his getting here and he smiled. “Wanda.” Was his single-worded answer. “Leave it to her to rouse me …”, he shrugged, quickly realising he really didn’t want to talk about the scarlet witch.

“I love you, Beth Silvercloud.” He said, repeating the words from that small, impromptu ceremony they had had. “But I need you to actually sleep.”

In the world outside of her mind, Forge shifted out from under Beth’s head. He gently pulled her against him as he assumed a position of lying down next to her. “I have things to tell you”, things to confess. “But first you need to sleep.” And by now he was ready to sleep, too. Forge knew that maybe she wouldn’t feel so liberate with sentences such as I love you when he was done fessing up. And still, he needed to tell her. Better she heard it from his mouth than pulling it from his mind.

He pulled a thin blanket up and draped it across Beth’s unconscious form and his own one as he folding himself around her.